


Beg me.

by stainhermouthred



Category: Alias (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Brainwashing, F/M, Humiliation, It's probably triggering, Mind Control, Violence, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stainhermouthred/pseuds/stainhermouthred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Look into what happened between Jessica and Killgrave while he held her captive.<br/>Comic-verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beg me.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_other_woman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_other_woman/gifts).



> Read the Alian "Purple" arc :D (if you're old enough ofc)  
> This is comic-verse aka the whole: Killgrave loved Jessica doesn't really apply that much.  
> Oh and I don't think Kilgrave touched Jess that much in the story but whatever

She used to be her own person.

Bubbly. Happy. A superhero.

She was learning to fly and fighting crimes, being a part of the Avengers. She had a friend, Carol Danvers, Ms Marvel, hell, she was used to seeing Captain America on daily basis. That was her life and she loved every second of it. But that was the past.

She had left this life some time ago. She didn’t know how much time has passed till he took her away. No. That’s not right. She was happy to follow him. Listening to his commands was calming, purifying and she wanted more. Couldn’t resist him.

He was a villain.

He was controlling her and her thoughts and emotions.

This was not her.

She hated him.

These were the facts. She knew it. But she felt like she wanted to go with him. And it was so strong. She followed. He was looking at her with that sly expression, there was a touch of hatred in his eyes and it hurt her. It shouldn’t. She hated him. She did everything he asked her to.

They were in his hotel room, he sat down with the confidence and mockery on his features. And then he said her name. Teasing voice of that son of a bitch. Saying her name.

“Jessica”

Her heart flutters and it shouldn’t.

He tells her he wants to see her without clothes.

She licks her lips, her heart beating even faster and she wants to cry because … it’s not right. But she slides her suit down along chest, revealing her breasts and down. His eyes follow the path of her hands and her skin burns under his sights and she wondered. Was it his influence as well? Or was she really that depraved? The disgust she felt towards herself was getting stronger.

Finally her suit has hit the floor and she was naked under his gaze. His expression didn’t change and she felt self-conscious. “you’re so pretty” the wave of gratitude flew over her and the strength of her reaction scared the hell out of her.  

“Come here” she came to him and he stood up. There was almost no space between them and his hand that was purple and that alone should threw her off at least a little bit. Not then though. His fingers traced her hand up her arm and she shivered. That wasn’t her. She fought reactions of her body, to the point when she was standing there straight and stiff. She couldn’t fight what she felt. He traced her collarbone, down her breasts and ribs. He leaned in as in to kiss her. And staying just out of her reach he whispered. “Beg me”

Her eyes grew wider, her mouth falling open.

“Beg me, to take you. To touch you”

And beg she did. He still stood there inches from her and looked at her lips, eyes, she was shaking her fingers twitching. And he didn’t. She felt empty and cold and she felt like the only thing that could make her feel good was his hands on her and he didn’t touch her.

“You’re going to beg me, on your knees, and I’m not going to give you anything. Because you’re a worthless whore.” He said that last thing with a smile on his face and sat down as she fall to her knees. “you’re going to be a good whore. Kneel here, and beg”

She begged and she begged till he cried. At some point he left and came back with two young girls. Younger than her. She felt shame that she wasn’t enough for him.

He took of his clothes. And stood there, purple and proud there. Looking her straight in the eyes and smiling. “You want me. You want me so much, don’t you Jessica?”

“Yes” it came out as a broken sob.

“Good. You’re going to sit there. And watch us”

Once she was innocent. Not in a virginal sense of the word, more like… pure. She looked at the girl screaming in pain as He was pounding into her with too much force, hurting her and she wanted so much to be in her place. She couldn’t move, she was sobbing and she wanted to touch him, to watch the contrast between the tones of their skin. When he had his face turned in her direction, he would look straight at her and command her to cry, to be desperate for him.

Her hands were bleeding as she dug her nails deep into her skin. She was shaking. And begging. He would watch her with that satisfied expression and she wanted so much more. She shouldn’t. She hated him. She couldn’t imagine her life without him touching her. She begged him to kiss her. To put his hands on her, to fuck her hard and raw. So every second she would feel that she was possessed by him. Even if now she was as well, more than ever.

She was not enough for him.

He didn’t touch her and she kept begging him because that’s what felt right. But he had dozens of girls, coming, being used and let out. And every night, Jessica wished to be abused the way they were. Hypnotized and raped. Because that what they were. On some level of her consciousness she knew that. But what would matter would be that it was Him who fucked her.

At first he kept her naked all the time. She cooked him meals like that. She cleaned the room. Slept at his feet. She bathed him. All of it was humiliating. But she did that without a word of complaint. She wanted his approval. She wanted him.

Then, he decided that having her naked all the time wasn’t humiliating enough. So he got her to wear tiny plaid skirt and a shirt. Mind you it was open and she looked like a typical whore. A slut, begging to be taken. As if her words weren’t enough.

She didn’t know how much time had passed but he stopped looking at her with hatred. Or so she thought. He would touch her hair as he would taunt her. He had a bad mood, she was a perfect outlet, not defending herself as he kept punching her, usually in the face. He kept doing that until her lip was split and her face was partly blue from bruises.

And even then, with a broken voice she would crawl to him and cling to his legs moaning “Please, please, I want you” and he would push her away filling her up with even more self-hatred than before.

The thing was… she didn’t hate herself anymore for the very fact of being mind-controlled. This thing was a blur, the line between who she was and who he wanted her to be was non-existent from the very beginning but she had facts. Villain. Abused her. She should hate him.

But she didn’t want to.

One day he made her watch the two girls play, naked in his bed, going down on each other and he stood right behind her as he talked about his fantasies, telling her to imagine the scenarios when he does all the perverted crap to her and she wanted to sob that’s how much she craved it. But she couldn’t move. Not without his permission.

Tie her. Hit her. Hurt her. And then fuck her unconscious.

And then he would whisper her name, straight to her ear and she would cry.

She tried to remember that it wasn’t her. That she couldn’t love him. That she hated him so it was impossible. But she was failing. And one day she was laying on the ground, balancing between a dream and reality and she felt a cold finger touching her face, she felt the excitement and didn’t know if it was real. She doubted she would ever knew.

She let herself go.

The finger kept tracing down her face to her neck, tucking her hair behind her ear and the touch sent the shivers down her body and she welcomed it with a sigh. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw the very person of her frustration and adoration. Him.

He was smiling as he took her hand and brought her closer to him, her hands landing on his chest. He looked amused but didn’t say a word as he watched her. And what a sight she must have been. Mouth slightly open, eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. One of his hands wandered to her neck and lightly brought her lips to his.

She got to kiss the man she’s been begging for months now. His lips were soft and tasted differently. He was guiding her through the kiss, demanding one, pulling her into his body and roaming his hands over her curves. That was the happiest moment of her life right then and she couldn’t get enough. His tongue found a way into her mouth, caressing her and as she was riding the endorphin rush, she felt the hand on her throat squeezing sharply and before she knew it she was lifted and slammed against the wall.

He took one look at her hurt and betrayed face and laughed maniacally.

He was playing with her and had fun doing so.

The next night, he didn’t bring any girls either. Instead he toyed with her. He kept whispering what he would do to her if she wasn’t a filthy superhero whore, all that while he caressed her body alternating between  being gentle and groping her painfully. He didn’t touch any of her intimate areas he just marked her purple with bruises while she squirmed and looked at him with that wide eyes dreaming about making love to him.

He played with her for a week or so she thought. He kissed her once more and that kiss was so much longer and more brutal than the last one. He was biting her lips, tracing his tongue along hers, pulling her hair painfully and fulfilling her. Judging by the noises he was making, he liked it as much as she did.

He didn’t tossed her into the wall then. He told her to stand with her back to him then. Told her that he couldn’t look at her anymore, that she was disgusting. Self-hatred came back and she stood there for a whole night, insecurity killing her from the inside.

The next day was the day were he got mad because Daredevil saved the city. That was the day when he threw her away as a used toy. She flew because it made him pleased. She flew because she hoped he’d love her if she did something right. That he’d look at her without disgust.

Then she was far enough and realized what she was doing. She wanted to threw up but couldn’t stop. She had to kill someone just because _he_ asked.


End file.
